


You Gotta Remember To Breathe

by GeneHarlow



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:12:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneHarlow/pseuds/GeneHarlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything bad that had happened to Norma Bates had happened on a bed. It made sense that she would be dying on a bed now. It had come a full circle." </p><p>One shot. A re-imagined version of the ending to 4x10. Alex's CPR skills are slightly more efficient...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gotta Remember To Breathe

Everything bad that had happened to Norma Bates had happened on a bed. The safe, soft place that most people associated with warmth and comfort was the focus of some of Norma Bates's most harrowing memories. From her childhood - hiding under her bed with Caleb while their father tore through the house in a rage, to her teen years - "Let's just try it, Norma Louise. For practice..." "But you're hurting me...", to her marriage to Sam and all those nights she had tried to pretend she was somewhere else, anywhere other than being pressed face first into the cheapest sheets Sam's money could buy. It made sense that she would be dying on a bed now. It had come a full circle.

She had felt Norman slip into bed with her, considered telling him to go back to his own bed for tonight, but she didn't have the energy, nor the will. So she let him wrap an arm around her, let her lungs breathe in the toxic air, waking for only a few moments of blind, gasping panic when her lungs stopped working, before the blackness tugged at her consciousness and she slipped away. Of course she was dying on a bed. It figures.

"Baby? Baby come back to me!" He pressed on her chest, probably too hard, trying to remember his CPR training. It wasn't enough. His training seemed useless and inadequate as she flopped limply in his arms, her face wet as his tears dripped on her.

"No, no, no..." He sobbed, against her hair, lowering her to the floor one last time. He couldn't just give up. He had only loved her two weeks. Well, he had loved her for much longer than that, and he couldn't let her die without telling her that. There was so much he had to tell her.

He forced air into her lungs several more times, before pumping her chest again, his movements frantic, his cries growing desperate. He sat back on his heels for a second, staring down at her in horror, before she stirred, just the faintest rise of her chest and he gasped.

"Norma? Norma?!" He whispered disbelievingly, scooping her up in his arms, brushing the hair away from her face - her beautiful, living face. She sucked in a desperate gasping breath, her eyes flying open, wildly darting around to land on his face. He smiled down at her and she managed to wearily lift one hand to clumsily wipe a tear off his face, her brow furrowing in confusion before she rolled away from him, heaving suddenly.

She continued to retch, her body convulsing with great sobs as her lungs tried to rid themselves of the poison in them. His hand reached out to stroke her back, his eyes landing on where Norman was lying just beyond her, still, too still. His face was paler than ever, and Alex's eyes darted up and down his body, looking for the telltale rise and fall of a breath. It wasn't there.

Norman was younger than Norma. He should have been fitter, healthier - He'd barely thought of him when he had burst into her bedroom, merely dragging him out and then focusing all of his attention on his wife, but now, as Norma lay between them, her hand reaching out desperately for Norman, Alex realised his mistake. Jumping over Norma, who was still panting as her lungs filled with fresh, untainted air, he reached for Norman, searching for a pulse, flinched when he found his skin ice cold.

"No, no, no..." Norma whispered from where she was lying, her eyes fluttering closed every few moments as if unconsciousness was beckoning again. Alex almost wished she would, so he wouldn't have to see the pain in her eyes. He glanced at her, his expression telling her everything as he withdrew his hand slowly, dropping his gaze.

"No! Norman!" She wailed out, using the last of her strength to crawl over to him, wrapping herself around her son's body before slipping into unconsciousness again.

Alex woke with a start next to his wife, her head resting on his chest, her soft snores filling his ears. He tightened his grip around her for a second, to reassure himself she was still there. He kept having the same dream, reliving that awful night over and over again. She was fine. She was alive. It was Norman who...

She shivered in her sleep, murmuring unhappily and it was like she had read his thoughts. He sighed into the darkness, pulling her more snugly against him, feeling reassured as she settled back again, nuzzling her head against him. She spent every waking moment mourning her son, alternating between sobbing furiously, and staring vacantly at the empty chair in Norman's room, and her sleep was the only untroubled part of her day. After wandering the house like a pale ghost all day, she would climb into bed, press herself into his arms and let sleep take her away from her grief for a little while. He couldn't pretend to understand it, but he was lost, never knowing what the right thing to say or do was right now, so he wrapped her up, stroked her hair, and tried not to let his own nightmares affect her precious sleep.

"I wish I had met you sooner." She mumbled sleepily against his chest and he jumped, not realising she had been awake, wondering if she really could read his mind.

"Me too." He whispered back, gritting his teeth as he thought about all the things he would have protected her from.

"I never liked being in bed." She murmured in a small voice that broke his heart.

"What?" He whispered back, confused, as his hands stroked gentle patterns along her back.

"I never used to like being in bed. Not for any longer than I had to be. But I liked being here with you." She wriggled contentedly.

His brow furrowed in confusion, as his lips brushed against her hair. She still sounded half asleep, and he wondered if she was sleep-talking. She wasn't making sense.

Her fingers flexed against his chest, her nails lightly digging in.

"I like being in bed with you too." He said quietly to the top of her head, smiling, his hand coming to rest on top of hers, offering a reassuring squeeze.

There was a long silence, where Alex wondered if she had fallen asleep again, content to listen to her breathe, the smell of her lavender shampoo filling his nostrils, making his eyelids feel heavy.

"All the bad things that have happened to me, happened on a bed." She muttered suddenly, and his heart froze because it was probably the saddest and most horrifying thing she'd ever said.

There was a long pause, where he just hugged her tightly, and tried not to let the tears that had sprung to his eyes fall. His strong, beautiful wife. What had her life been like before she knew him?

"Caleb..." She started, and he tensed up. "Sam..." She listed, and his hands balled into fists against her back. "I even died on a bed."

"You didn't die." He corrected her quickly, and she finally tilted her head up, smiling sadly. She stared at him for a long time.

"Yes I did, Alex."

He frowned at her for a moment, opening his mouth to speak, but not knowing what to say.

"You know that, right?" He paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open wordlessly. "This isn't real." She said, though he was already figuring that out.

She leaned up to press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth.

"I will always love you." She said slowly, her hand cupping his cheek, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Bye, Alex." She whispered.

"Norma, wait. I-" He started, but she was gone.

He shot up, glancing around wildly, his hands sweeping across the sheets for her. He was back in his old bedroom, in his lonely little house, and he was alone. The smell of lavender was gone, replaced with the smell of stale whiskey and the cigarettes he had started smoking again. He remembered now. He dropped back against the pillows, letting out a howl of anguish that he couldn't contain, crying for all the things he never got to tell her.

"I love you too, Norma." He whispered to nobody.

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclaimer - I FULLY cried while writing this. Like, sobbed and sobbed. So before you tell me how mad you are at me for it, know that I suffered as much as you guys did, and I'm genuinely sorry that I did this.
> 
> Also, the title is a line from the movie The Last Kiss. I wanted to call this The Last Kiss, but that seemed a bit too obvious so I searched for a while and found a line from the movie that I quite liked.
> 
> Kim: 'Cause we don't ever stop to breathe anymore...
> 
> You gotta remember to breathe or you'll die.


End file.
